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‘I know,’ she said.
His nose touched hers. ‘I want to be inside you.’
The heat in his gaze burned away the last of her fears as her fingertips brushed the thick arousal already tenting the fabric of his trousers.
‘I know.’
Gripping her fingers, he headed towards the bedroom, hauling her behind him.
And she let her heart soar.
* * *
Dane didn’t question the frantic need driving him to claim her, possess her. Because he couldn’t. Not any more.
The sight of her in the designer dress, its sleek material sliding over slender curves, watching the sultry knowledge in her mermaid’s eyes, had been driving him wild all evening. And the last vestiges of the civilised, sensible guy he’d become had been blown to smithereens—the way they had been every day, one crucial piece at a time, ever since she’d marched into his office a week ago.
This hunger wasn’t just lust. He knew that—had known it for days, if he was honest with himself. And for that reason he should just let her go. But he couldn’t.
Because she was his—any way he could get her. And the desire to mark her as his, keep her near him, had become overwhelming.
He’d insisted on taking her out to dinner, then tortured them both with a slow dance at the Soca Shack to prove that he could hold it together. That this didn’t have to mean more than it should. But he’d felt as if he were holding a moonbeam in his arms as she moved against him—so bright, so beautiful, and still so far out of reach—and it had finally tipped him right over the edge of sanity.
He slammed open the first door he came to—the bathroom suite. Swinging her round, he pressed her up against the tiles, filled his hands with those lush breasts. He sucked her through the shimmering silk of her gown, groaning against the damp fabric when he found her braless.
She bucked against him, her response instant and oh-so-gratifying when he tugged the straps off her shoulders, freeing her full breasts.
He kicked off his shoes and pushed down his pants, his gaze fixed on the ripe peaks of her breasts, reddened from his mouth.
She found his erection, but he dragged her hand away.
‘Lose the dress,’ he said as he tore off his shirt, and the gruff demand in his voice made the light of challenge spark in her eyes.
‘I don’t take orders,’ she said, sounding indignant, but he could see the hot light of her lust. She understood this game as much as he did—even if it didn’t feel like a game any more.
‘Lose the dress or it gets ripped off.’
‘Oh, for...’
She shimmied out of the clinging silk to reveal the lacy panties he adored. Palming her bottom, he lifted her onto the vanity unit, shoving her toiletries off the countertop. The bag crashed to the floor, scattering her stuff across the tiles.
Need careered through his system along with pain and possession—the same damn combination that had tortured him a lifetime ago.
She placed trembling palms on his chest. ‘Dane, slow down.’
‘In a minute,’ he said, the need to have her, to claim her, powering through him like a freight train.
He ripped the delicate panties. And plunged his fingers into the hot, wet heart of her at last.
She sobbed, gasped and grasped his biceps. He stroked the slick flesh, knowing just how and where to touch her to send her spiralling into a stunning orgasm. He watched her go over, and the powerful emotion coiling inside him—part fear, part euphoria—made his erection throb harder against her thigh.
‘You ready for me?’ he demanded, barely able to speak as need tormented him.
She nodded, dazed. He sank into her to the hilt, the euphoria bursting inside him as she clasped him tight.
Yes. If this was the only way he could have her, the only way he could make her his, he was going to show her that this was one thing no other man would ever be able to give her.
She clung to his arms as he thrust hard and dug deep, her muscles milking him as she started to crest again. The hunger gripped him, as painful as it was exquisite. He shouted out as she sobbed her release into his neck. And his seed burst into the hot, wet grip of her body.
